A Furry Little Problem
by Limerence
Summary: Remus' best friends discover his secret. Marauder fluff! Complete.


**A Furry Little Problem  
**

Remus Lupin lay on his side in his four-poster bed, slowly flicking through _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ and listening to the crackling of a small fire in the grate. To him, there was no better feeling in the world than being cocooned in blankets, thoroughly warm and sleepy, with the full force of a storm lashing against the window panes. It was as though he was in an isolated bubble, wholly separate from the world. He felt untouchable.

The moon was hanging like a sickle in the sky; a bright moment amidst the scudding black clouds. Remus glanced up at it, grateful that tonight wasn't a full moon. Somehow – absurdly – bad weather made a difference to what was already the loneliest experience imaginable.

Abruptly, Remus glanced at his watch, frowning. It was nearing midnight, and his three friends hadn't yet come up to the dormitory. He had left them playing a furious tournament of Exploding Snap – a game Remus firmly eschewed – more than two hours ago. Curiosity piqued, he slid out of bed, pulling on a threadbare woollen jumper, and padded down the long flight of icy stone steps towards the common room. Familiar voices floated up the stairwell towards him.

"… would be completely tactless, Sirius!" said James with an incredulous laugh.

"I'm only _saying_ there's no point in dragging things out!" Sirius' voice rang out confidently. "And I speak," he paused for what Remus knew to be his infuriating winning smirk, "as your superior in both blood and looks…"

"Wanker."

Peter's shrill giggle erupted hysterically, just as it did every time a remotely naughty word cropped up in conversation. They had just reached the age of thirteen, at which the uttering of swearwords, when used in a nonchalant and off-hand manner, had become infinitely more impressive than using them to shock. Peter, who had not quite managed this thorny part of social development as well as his daring friends had, consequently spent a large proportion of his time in the throes of uncertain, excited tittering.

The moment that Remus stepped from the stairwell and into the common room, Peter choked on his laughter and began to cough loudly. Sirius, who had been reclining upon an elegant crimson chaise longue, sprang to his feet and smacked James in the shoulder, who slammed shut the book he had been poring over and stood up abruptly. The three of them, alone in the dancing firelight, looked distinctly like people who had been caught discussing something… secret. Remus' stomach prickled uncomfortably. This was a strange experience. Was he longer allowed to know the secret things the Marauders usually discussed together?

"Er… hello," he said uncertainly.

"Remus!" bellowed Sirius far too loudly, striding forwards and slinging an arm around his friend's shoulders. The effect of the hearty voice, which one would assume belonged to a rotund gentleman in a smoking jacket, was ruined slightly by the tatty red pyjamas he wore; the trousers of which revealed an inch or so of skinny ankle.

"Remus, Remus, Remus…" he continued, for want of something more convincing to say. He kept his arm like a clamp around Remus' shoulders. The jovial voice tailed off into a slightly awkward silence.

It appeared that Remus had interrupted their conversation at a critical moment.

"What are you reading?" he asked James casually, hopeful to ease the tense knot that was twisting at his insides. This hope was dashed, however, as Sirius tore his arm away from Remus and made a dash for the book lying on the coffee table. James, unfortunately, had already whipped it into his arms and against his chest, clutching it so tightly that his knuckles went white.

"It's, er – it's for Trans –"

"Herbology!" shrieked Sirius.

Remus looked between James and Sirius, who were frozen comically – James cradling the book as though it was his first-born infant: Sirius with his hands like raptor's claws, stretched out towards it.

"We know you're a werewolf!" piped up Peter suddenly.

There was a sudden, ringing silence as Peter clapped his hands over his mouth, eyes darting rapidly between the other three; looking for reassurance. Remus' heart constricted within his chest. Cold sweat broke out instantly in a damp line down the centre of his chest, and under his arms. _Did he imagine that?_ A surreal sense of being outside his body came over Remus. The rain drummed steadily against the diamond-paned windows, horribly loud. Time stretched out like a tapering thread.

It was the night he had been dreading for two years. No matter where he was or what he did, the tenacious sense of being _different_ clung at his heel. If someone looked at him strangely, sweat would erupt from every pore on his body and his heart would rise aching into his throat because _what if they knew?_

But now the prospect of leaving Hogwarts – leaving his _home_ – was very, very real. It was also more than he could bear. Hot, prickling tears gathered behind his eyes. His lips and fingers were numb. How could he say to Dumbledore – who'd taken him in against the tide of disapproval – that he'd failed to keep his side of the bargain?

"Remy?"

Sirius was looking at him, his head cocked on one side. "I must say, we're all quite bloody offended."

His tone was wrong. Remus let the statement reel through his head a few times, searching for an undercurrent of fear, or disgust, or hostility. There was nothing. All he could detect was the familiar mischievous tint that coloured Sirius' voice so often. He looked at Sirius, his eyes barely able to focus properly. The sweat on his upper lip was cold and clammy.

"What did you think we would _do?_ We're your friends!" Sirius said, looking curiously at the werewolf.

Remus stood miserably in the centre of the carpet. A tear dripped from the tip of his nose.

"I only wish that you'd told us sooner," Sirius continued, "so that you didn't have to worry about what you were going to say every month. Surely you must have known that you're going to be our friend and fellow Marauder, no matter what? I mean, what with Peter being socially inept and James being the most arrogant sod ever to walk the planet, I'd say that a furry little problem is the least of our worries!"

Sirius plopped defiantly down on the sofa, arms crossed. Remus watched him uncertainly through baleful eyes.

But James and Peter were nodding vigorously. Remus glanced around at the three of them, unable to say anything. He didn't want to believe that they were on his side; didn't want to be disappointed. He didn't want to ruin things for _them_. Not when they'd already been such good friends to him. Regardless, a small, secret glow of warmth was slowly spreading through him.

"We were just having an argument about how to tell you," said James with a laugh, "Reckoned it'd be a bit of a shock for you to find out we actually work things out when we put our minds to it. It wasn't that difficult, though. _You_, my dear friend, have an appallingly high death rate in your extended family."

Remus gave a watery chuckle.

"Well," said James with a faint air of surprise, "Now that we've sorted _that_ out, shall we go to bed?"

As they made their way up the draughty stairwell towards their dormitory, footsteps echoing off the cold walls, Sirius poked Remus in the ribs.

"Can I call you Moony?"

"Moony?"

"Yeah, you know, like the moon… you know."

"I'd never have guessed."


End file.
